[The word comes out short of breath, airy and light as the wind and so very quiet. Had he been any further away, he might not have heard her at all.]
This... is rightfully theirs?
[The hand that is still in his at her shoulder pulls his along, bringing it closer to her neck.
This, being them. Together. Whether she believes it with her whole heart or not yet, she cannot say for certain. Not when she's too afraid of what might be taken away from her should she allow herself to feel anything beyond what she feels now. The world has a funny way of doing that—giving her a scrap and then when she reaches out for it, snatches it away. She hates it.
But as his hand slips beneath her dress, as his voice and more importantly, his words, burrow their way into her, she finds herself wanting it anyway.]
no subject
[The word comes out short of breath, airy and light as the wind and so very quiet. Had he been any further away, he might not have heard her at all.]
This... is rightfully theirs?
[The hand that is still in his at her shoulder pulls his along, bringing it closer to her neck.
This, being them. Together. Whether she believes it with her whole heart or not yet, she cannot say for certain. Not when she's too afraid of what might be taken away from her should she allow herself to feel anything beyond what she feels now. The world has a funny way of doing that—giving her a scrap and then when she reaches out for it, snatches it away. She hates it.
But as his hand slips beneath her dress, as his voice and more importantly, his words, burrow their way into her, she finds herself wanting it anyway.]